I awoke this morning, and for a moment I hadn’t remembered what was going on. For that brief moment, all was right with the world. And then I opened my eyes and saw that I was in my dad’s house – in the bottom bed of my little brother’s bunk beds with his Spiderman clock above my head (which any other time would be comical). And for a moment, I was just here visiting. And then I really opened my eyes and saw a closet full of my sister’s clothes, and I remembered. I was immediately aware once more of why I’m here. And I cried.
Then I started to thumb through the clothes in that closet, and I saw clothes I recognized – not from seeing her wearing them in person, but seeing pictures she posted online that I viewed from afar. For as many years as I can remember, I have watched my sister live her life from miles away. And in that instant, it felt more wrong than I can even express. As I thumbed through the closet, I saw dresses she wore on a night out on the town and then there it was - the dress she wore for my wedding last summer, the last time we were all together, long before all of this started.
I don’t know how it feels as a parent to watch your child go through this, but I know as a big sister – someone who is supposed to have all the answers – there’s an overwhelming sense of helplessness. I’m the one who is supposed to have the advice and the answers. And right now I have none of either.